Sammy Keyes and the Hockey Murderer
by CaseyIsMyValentine
Summary: The gang's at a hockey game and Sammy is finding herself solving a crime along with trying not to fall for a bunch of hockey players. Casey is not pleased. But someone died, so it all makes sense somehow.
1. Chapter 1

**Note**: This is embarrassing but I have an obsession for hockey. The Blackhawks, specifically. Anyway, in case you only care about Cammy-ness, yes there will be Cammy in the near future. So that's all. And sorry if you get pissed at Sammy acting all weird over Jonathan and Patrick. HAHAHA. Okay.

_**Sammy Keyes and the Hockey Murderer**_

_(Uncreative as hell of a name).. CHAPTER ONE._

"Why, Sammy, you look beautiful on this fine day." Casey Acosta smiled at me. The sun was shining, the grass was green, it was a good day in Santa Martina. "Except I freaking hate your outfit."  
>I primly returned the smile. "You look quite dashing, too, might I say." I curtsied. "But you will learn to EAT YOUR WORDS."<p>

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." My best friend Marissa cut in: "I think we should all be friendly, non-hostile. Maybe you two should hold hands like you usually do? Show us some love?"  
>I eyed Casey.<p>

He eyed me.

"Nope." We both said at the same time. "We're good."  
>Casey turned away from me so I could see the 19 "Toews" written on the back of his Blackhawks jersey.<p>

I stuck my tongue out.

"I wouldn't do that." Billy said, popping out of Marissa's bathroom with a Kane jersey. "It'll ruin your complexion."  
>"Oh, shut up." I grabbed a rubber band and put my hair in a messy ponytail.<p>

"By the way, Sammy, have I mentioned how your jersey is absolutely feo?" he was referring to my number 29 Cloew jersey, for the Sharks.

Yes, we were all attending a hockey game.

Billy, you see, is usually a Kings fan. And he pretty much hates the team I support, the Sharks, with a burning passion. The game was a Sharks home game against the Blackhawks, and since the Kings have no involvement in this, he is helping Casey support the Blackhawks.

Which obviously made me grab Marissa to be on my side.

Intense rivalry? I think yes. The past few days have been burning between me and Casey—we make small talk but we can both tell that this—being the one huge thing we TOTALLY disagree on—is not the best subject to discuss alone with each other.

I can get pretty overly-defensive.

And he can get pretty Mr.-know-it-all.

JUST SAYING.

Anyway, I didn't have a jersey to lend to Marissa since I'm not like Casey who has like, 5 different jerseys (is that the ONLY thing guys spend their money on? Sports jerseys? They seem to have like, 10 different jerseys for every team and sport)), I gave Marissa a Sharks tank-top instead, that "12 Marleau" on the back. Close enough to the real deal.

Marissa, who was excited to see the "cute hockey players" (even though I had told her many times that you can barely see their faces through the masks, so the jersey is what we all rely on when watching a game), was ready to go.

"Marissa, you can't wear skirts and heels to a hockey game! It's KINDA FREAKING COLD in the arena."  
>"Really?"<br>"Yes. So put a longer-sleeved shirt on under that tank top and wear jeans or pants. Seriously."

So yes, Marissa got changed. Casey and I glared at each other. Billy played Angry Birds on his iTouch.

We went to the bus stop, got on, and prepared ourselves for the next 3 hours full of tension.

They couldn't have been longer.

After the bus ride (**note**: like how I so cleverly avoided the long bus ride to get to the fun stuff?) and after we were finally at, and seated, in the hockey arena, I started counting the seconds and the minutes.

"What are you doing?" Casey finally asked me. The lights dimmed.

"Shhh!"  
>"56, 57, 58, 59, 60, ONE MINUTE. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…" after I finally couldn't take him just staring at me like that, I snapped, "What do you want?" a little too hostile.<p>

"I'm trying to figure out what the heck you're doing."

I sighed and opened my ponytail. "I'm counting. It's a lucky tactic that I do before every game. It helps us win."  
>He grinned. "A lucky tactic?"<br>"Shut up."  
>"ONE. TWO. THREE. YEAH, WE'RE GONNA WIN NOW!"<p>

I blushed and punched him. "I said shut up!"

Suddenly Billy snapped, "While you guys were bickering, the game began!"

Marissa's whining. "You were right…I can't see their faces, their arms…even their legs!"  
>"Good! Maybe you'll concentrate on the game instead of staring at their biceps, then."<br>"No, that's no fun!"  
>"Shhh!"<p>

The game was off to a rough start. A girl in a Sharks jersey in front of me was screaming.

"OH COME ON, MITCHELL, YOU TOTALLY JUST GAVE THAT TO MAYERS! I WILL KILL YOU."

The guy next to her in an identical jersey, yelled, "YES PAVELSKI. YOU BLOCK THAT SHOT."

Casey leaned forward and said in a scarily calm and steady voice, "Will you two please shut up? You're ruining my mojo."  
>the girl whipped around and said between her teeth, "We will KILL your mojo."<br>Two death threats in a matter of 5 seconds? This girl was not looking pretty right now.

My mind went right back to the game. Suddenly Casey jumped up, along with a hundred or so other Hawks fans (but there were more Sharks fans, obviously, it was a home game) and yelled, "FIRST GOAL, STALBERG!"

The BOOOOO-ing from the arena was inevitable—the majority was made of Sharks fans, and we were not looking happy.

"It's only been 3 minutes into the first period!" I snapped. "Don't act like you're so hot."

After about 4 minutes of Stalberg and Leddy pass amongst themselves, I snapped, "Alright, why don't you DO something for your team and SHOOT?"  
>"LONG SHOT LEDDY." Casey was chanting. "LONG SHOT. LEEEDDDDDYYYYYYYY."<p>

"Shut up!"

Three more minutes and the game was tied 1-1 thanks Ryane (spelling?) Clowe. I jumped up because, well, I was wearing his jersey.

"WHAT NOW!" I turned to Casey and smirked. "We took time, EFFORT. You guys just blindly shoot."  
>"Yeah, but at least we can SCORE when we blindly shoot. Did you see Pavelski trying to score earlier? He was all over the place. It's inevitable that Seabrook would block it."<br>"Then why don't you ask Carcillo why he's being such a jerk and totally slamming Sheppard as we speak?"  
>His head spun toward the game. "NOT AGAIN, CARCILLO." He yelled. "YOU'LL GET A SUSPENSION. AGAIN!" Even though Carcillo obviously couldn't hear.<p>

He turned to me. "Don't ask me about Carcillo, alright? He doesn't know the boundary between 'defense' and 'overly-defensive'. But you'd know, wouldn't you?"  
>"I am NOT overly-defensive!" I said defensively.<p>

He just smirked and turned back to the game.

The end of the first period came fast because no one made a score again.

"That wraps up the first period with 1-1!"  
>The intermission began, right as the lights in the whole arena blacked out, leaving us all in a giant arena filled with National Hockey League players, confusion, and a whole lot of panic.<p>

"What's going on?"

Screaming began.

"CALM DOWN!" the announcer yelled, but suddenly his voice stopped. The little warmth that had been in the arena whisped away quickly.

That's when I realized that this was no technical difficulty.

The lights going out first? All of the power cut out 10 seconds after? That's not what I call ironic.

That's what I call planned.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Sammy Keyes and the Hockey Murderer - Chapter 2_**

I sat there for a minute or two in the darkness as people screamed when Marissa whimpered, "Uh, Sammy, what the heck?"

"Calm down. The power should be back on any minute."

"But...this is scary!"

Giant flashlights were suddenly flicked on. You know, those lights the size of like a box? Of course. They would have emergency equipment.

People started getting antsy so they got up to get something to eat, use the bathroom, or just walk around and warm up.

"Why is it so cold? Even colder than before?"

"Because the power is out...?" I got up and said, "Come on, guys. Let's so check out what's happening."

"They're not going to let us down there with the players!" Billy protested.

I rolled my eyes. "Did I _say _anything about going by the players? Besides, everything is so hectic that it wouldn't make a difference. They might even mistake _me _to be Clowe for a minute if they don't look hard enough in this dark light."

"Yeah, because I'm sure everyone thinks of Clowe as having a small, feminine body." Casey grumbled, but he grabbed my hand as we headed down the bleachers anyway.

I squinted as I looked down at players on the arena. A group was standing by a "Playstation" ad printed on the rink.

"Look, it's Patrick Kane." Billy squinted as he looked closer. "Whoa! He's, like, right THERE."

"Oh, really? Patrick Kane from the Blackhawks? HERE? AT A GAME AGAINST THE BLACKHAWKS? _I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED!" _I guess my sarcasm was at an all-time high.

"Hey, Kane is one of their best players."

I turned to look at him, but he couldn't see my deadpan expression.

"Since when did you care about the Hawks, Billy?"

"Hey, no one calls them the 'Hawks' except for true fans!" Casey protested.

"Shut up! You don't even LIVE in Chicago, you traitor!"

Our bickering was cut short when we realized we had walked through the glass door and onto the ice.

I looked down. It wasn't as slippery as I thought ice would be.

No one even noticed we were on the rink. Casey's eyes bugged out. "We are standing _so close _to Jonathan Toews."

I rolled my eyes. "Cool story."

"It's Toews hot?" Marissa asked Casey.

"How exactly am I supposed to answer that?"

"Well, is he?"

Billy pulled out his cell phone. "Let me show you a picture off the internet so you can decide for yourself and save Casey the awkwardness of saying 'Yes, I am in love with Jonathan Toews'."

As Billy ticked on his screen, I looked closer. It seemed like the a couple of the players were arguing with the goal judge.

"I don't have reception!" Billy complained.

"Shh! What are they saying?" I got in for better hearing.

"What are you doing?" Marissa hissed.

We got closer and Marissa, who was inspecting the players who had their helmets off, said, "OHMYGOD! He is _so _hot!"

"What did Casey tell you?" Billy said.

"I never told her anything!" Casey.

"Guys, shut up!"

We were suddenly right next to National Hockey League players.

"We ahh wondering whether thee power vill be back anytime soon, eh?" a Blackhawks player asked.

"That's KRUGER!" Casey said excitedly.

About all six heads turned and stared at us.

"Who are you?" Clowe asked.

You'd think I'd be hit with some starstruck-bone inside me, considering I was wearing his jersey, but instead of going all gaga for one of my favorite players, I wanted to act casual so he wouldn't think I was some loser fangirl. "Uh, we were wondering what happened to the power?"

"Are you kids supposed to be here?"

"Where's your mother?"

"What? No, you don't get it. We're...really good with...electric stuff. Like, kid geniuses. Probably even smarter than the lame electrical workers who are trying frantically to fix this malfunction as we speak." I looked up at the ceiling. "Hey! Do _I _see the power coming back?" I turned to Clowe. "Do YOU?"

"Uh...no?"

"Exactly."

The goal keeper pursed his lips. "Well, these are unusual circumstances..."

"What do you think happened?" Billy asked, obviously not starstruck.

Casey cleared his throat, probably realizing he was acting like a 12-year-old girl meeting Taylor Swift.

Jonathan Toews looks right at Casey when he said, "Well, it was definitely some prankster doing it on purpose. There is no other way this could have happened."

Patrick Kane nodded. "This has happened back home before, but that was due to a crazy snowstorm."

"You don't think there's a crazy snowstorm going on here, do you?" Billy asked sincerely.

No one really felt obligated to answer such a brainless question.

"Anyway, we still have no idea what happened, so we're waiting." the goal keeper stared straight at me. "Tell me your theories, if you're such geniuses?"

Crap. "Uh, I don't think you'd understand, really. Not that you're stupid, but it's kind of hard to explain in human language."

"Human language?"

"Like, in a way you'd understand."

The goal keeper rolled his eyes and his flashlight beamed straight at my face, blinding me. "Try me. Pretend like I'm ten."

"Well...electricity...uh...went..bad. And we...try...fix."

"Not a _caveman_, girl. Ten!"

"Okay, okay! Let me think..."

"We have a feeling the electricity wasn't broken, just the electric current that keeps the electricity flowing throughout the whole arena. You know, the electric fields?" Casey to the rescue.

"Could you say 'elecricity' one more time, Case? I didn't get it the first time." I grumbled.

Casey rolled his eyes, but I was suddenly aware of how smart he really was. I felt like an uneducated oaf next to him.

The goal keeper stared at him. Finally he cleared his throat and said, "Okay, I think we can show you the backroom where the whole arena's power is controlled. Montador? Marleau?"

They were both standing off the side talking to themselves.

"Yeah, Byron?"

"Could you show these ki-, uh...these people who think they can fix the power outage problem, to the control room?"

Steve Montador and Patrick Marleau stared at us like they couldn't believe this. "Uh, okay...?"

Suddenly we were being led away from the players by a Blackhawks player and a Sharks player.

As we walked along, Marissa whispered to me. "Who was number 1 in the blue jersey? I was going to melt in a puddle of, 'Oh my god you're so hot will you please eat me' vibes I was getting from him."

I laughed aloud. "Thomas Greiss? Marissa, you would."

We walked out of the arena and into the greying halls.

"This is creepy. Why is everything made of cement?"

"They don't really care to furnish the rest of the arena with plush carpet and state-of-the-art Korean hardwood floors." I rolled my eyes.

We reached a doorway. "Here it is." said Montador.

"Thanks." I said.

"You're cute." Marissa said.

Marleau burst out into laughter and Montador punched his shoulder. Then Marleau said to Marissa, "I like your shirt."

"Thanks, but it's Sammy's." she hitched a thumb to me.

"Do you want to sign my buttocks?" Casey asked Montador.

Three seconds later, a teal and red blur was zooming down the hallway.

I stared at Billy angrily. "You scared them away!"

Casey lifted up his hands so his thumbs were crossing over one another and the rest of his fingers looked like bird wings. "_Hawk_ward!"

"HAWKward?"

"Yeah, see, it's a hawk-"

"Oh, shut up! Let's go." we entered into the room. I looked around. "No one is in here! It's left totally unattended.

The room was filled with screens and buttons and panels and comfy chairs and mics and a mini-fridge.

Billy ran over to a seat. "It's like a real life hockey video game!"

"No, this is serious!"

(**Note: **"Shawn, I'm serious about this!" LOL GUS. sorry)

They all gave me looks. Even Casey dropped my hand to head over to the mini-fridge.

"No offense, Sammy, but I don't see the big deal. So an idiot nicked the power. It's an intermission. They'll fix it and get back to the game. Why are you so spun up?"

I shrugged. "It seems like there's something bigger to this. Why would anyone do that? Don't they _want _to watch a game?"

"Well, what if someone really hates the Sharks?" Casey asked, popping open a Dr. Pepper.

I shot him a look. "Oh, so someone can cut the power in a whole arena just because they hate the _Sharks, _right? What about the Blackhawks? I mean, _they _are the visitors."

"Well, the person obviously lives in San Jose. Why would anyone in San Jose seriously think enough about a team that comes from across the country to hate them so much and plan to destroy the power when they visit? It's a little far-fetched."

"So someone from Santa _Martina _can LOVE the Hawks, but someone from San Jose can't hate them?" defensive. That's me.

Casey threw his hands up. "Fine. So if someone really hates Chicago. Or San Jose. Or both. Or hockey. Or a player."

"Who cares?" Billy asked, clicking around on the control panels and looking through different screens. "Sweet! They have cameras in the girls' bathrooms!"

"Ewwww" Marissa screeched. "In the _stalls?"_

"No, just the open area. I guess in case someone tries something stupid, like hide an explosive."

"Yup, that's totally why they have cameras." I said. Then I decided to stop being such a sarcastic jerk.

"It's not like anyone really watches these, anyway... see? No one is here watching. If they were, they would have caught the idiot who stopped the power. And there's no video streams!"

"They don't videotape anything?" I went over to him. "It's all live?"

"Pretty much." he said as I sag next to him and looked at the screen.

"Let's see who's peeing in the guys' bathroom." Billy chuckled.

"You're disgusting." I said. But Billy clicked onto the mens' bathroom panel anyway.

The live stream popped up on screen.

"Did someone graffiti the bathroom red for the Blackhawks?" Casey asked coming over. "Why is there red paint splattered everywhere?"

Billy maneuvered the camera so we could see the other corner of the bathroom.

A dead body lay there.

That wasn't paint. That was blood.

And there was no mistaking the girl in the teal Sharks jersey that was the dead body.

The only thing I could think of saying was, "I told you someone really hated the Sharks." to Casey.

His eyes were bugged out too, and Marissa was whimpering.

Casey finally choked out, "Very funny."

Then Billy clicked off that screen, and we all turned around and ran. Straight for the mens' room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: **Heh, Sammy getting wooed by the powers of amazing hockey players. And locked in a closet with them (and Casey). By the way I have no idea why the format of this chapter is messed up...I'll try fixing it soon.

**_Sammy Keyes and the Hockey Murderer - Chapter Three_**

When we ran into the mens bathroom, we realized someone else had found the body in our run there."Jonathan Toews?" Casey was suddenly at his Taylor Swift fangirl mode again.  
>You know, considering I'm not even a Blackhawks fan, you'd think I wouldn't care about Jonathan Toews. But being so close to him made me realize that he was, possibly, the hottest man to ever walk the earth.<br>DID I JUST SAY THAT?  
>Anyway, Jonathan looked at us. "Us, do I know you?" but he was more focused on the dead body.<br>Billy panted, "That's...a..dead..body!"  
>Casey elbowed him and Jonathan pulled out a cell phone. "Guys, this is kind of serious. We need to call the police."<br>We waited a moment while he attempted at dialing emergency.  
>"No service...damn." he muttered. Then, at the top of his lungs he bellowed, "PATRRIIIIIIICCCCKKKKKKKKK!"<br>Another Blackhawks player burst into the room in his hockey getup. Patrick Kane, number 88.  
>I nearly fell over.<br>Marissa looked away. "Is this humanly possible?"  
>"Is what humanly possible?" asked Billy.<br>"For two guys to be so hot."  
>Patrick looked over at us with a weird expression on his face. "Dude, is that a real dead body?"<br>"Aren't we all a little too relaxed in the presence of a dead body? We should be screaming and running for our lives!"  
>"There goes our game." muttered Jonathan.<br>"Well, the Sharks were going to win, anyway." I huffed. "And we need to get help!"  
>They ignored me and spoke amongst themselves.<br>"Can you get Joe?"  
>"Who, Pavelski?" I interrupted. "I can get him."<br>Jonathan shot me a look. "_Quenneville._ No, I don't think you can get him. Hold on, Patrick, I'll go get him."  
>"Why isn't there any service?" Billy wailed and Casey dragged me aside. "Maybe we should go do something."<br>"But Jonathan Toews is getting Joe Queerville." I whined. "And Patrick Kane is RIGHT THERE."  
>Casey grimaced. "Joe <em>Quenne<em>ville, their coach? Okay, whatever."  
>Patrick Kane looked over at us, with his adorable curly-hair. "You guys wanting to use the bathroom? Go ahead."<br>"No, we're just the little electrician-genius-kids!" Billy wailed again. "We don't want to die! There's a murderer loose!"  
>Jonathan Toews burst back in the room. "Patrick, Joe is missing but I told Andrew to get here ASAP."<br>"Andrew Brunnette?" Casey asked.  
>They looked over. "Uh, yeah." then Patrick added. "Did you say you guys were the electrician geniuses?"<br>"Yeah," Billy said, "We were supposed to fix the light issue to get the game going again but obviously this is a much bigger issue..."  
>"We're also really good at figuring things out." I said, eager to impress Jonathan Toews. "So maybe we can figure out who killed this girl..." I looked over her. "Whoa! Guys, thats the girl that was sitting in front of us!:"<br>Billy's eyes cranked wide open and he turned and ran for one of the stalls.  
>"Maybe we should go tell her boyfriend, or that guy with her, her friend or whatever." Marissa said nervously.<br>"I'll go with her!" Billy called from the stall. He came out, wiping his mouth. "I need a drink, anyway."  
>"Ew." I said. "Thanks for making it smell like puke in here, Billy. As if the smell in the guys bathroom wasn't already bad enough with blood and pee."<br>The second Marissa and Billy were gone, Casey said, "So we can figure out who killed this girl."  
>"You guys should probably stay out of it. I mean, a murderer loose in the arena is kind of dangerous."<br>"Maybe it was a shark." Casey said.  
>"NOT FUNNY." I snapped. "Let's go, Casey." I was determined to get away from Toews immediately before I died of all the estrogen that was leaking from my pores.<br>I pulled him out the door, "See you guys later, maybe!"  
>"What was that for?" Casey snapped. "Toews is my idol."<br>"Never say that again."  
>Suddenly Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane come barreling out of the bathroom and into me and Casey. They pulled us into the nearest closet and slammed the door shut.<br>"What the heck!" I say, muffled. My face is pressed into the front of Toews' jersey.  
><em>My face is pressed into the front of Toews's jersey.<em>  
>Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.<br>I stepped back immediately. "What was that for?"  
>"Shhh...!" Kane whispered furiously. "There was someone IN the bathroom stall listening to us!"<br>"Did you see who he was?"  
>"No," Toews snapped, "He had a face-mask."<br>"He was the killer?" Casey gasped.  
>Toews pressed against the door, listening. "He had a gun."<br>"So, he was the killer."  
>"Why didn't you confront him?" I snap. "You have tons of protective gear on, you idiots!"<br>_Did I just call Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane idiots?_  
>Patrick hissed, "Well, it's not like we're <em>bulletproof! <em>And what if he shot us in the face?"  
>"We got out of there as fast as possible." Toews said. "But he knew that <em>we <em>knew, so we needed to hide. But you two were still standing out there like roadblock!"  
>"Well," I said, indignant, "All <em>we <em>knew is that one dead body and two NHL players were in the bathroom behind us. Not a killer!"  
>Toews shook his head and kind of cracked a smile and I swear, I melted right there. "Okay, you win."<br>"We need to be sure the killer is out of the bathroom before we get out." Casey said.  
>Kane looked at him like he was crazy. "Why, so he can go into the crowd and shoot everyone else?"<br>"How was that girl murdered, anyway? Was she shot?" I asked.  
>Patrick shook his head. "I think she was stabbed."<br>"That's brutal." Casey said. We were all quiet a moment, feeling sorry for the poor Sharks fan who just came to a game hoping for a win for San Jose, but instead ended up dead in a bathroom.  
>"Life sucks." I said.<br>"So what are we going to do?" Casey asked.  
>"Let's get out and make a plan." Toews said, all serious-like.<br>"Captain Serious, making a plan. Being all serious. Like a captain." I said with a smirk.  
>He gave me the weirdest look ever- a combination of a smile and a questioning, 'What the heck?'. But it was so adorable on him that I let it slide, just like how my heart was sliding like butter melting on toast.<br>DID I JUST THINK THAT?  
>God, why did Jonathan Toews make me this way?<br>He reached for the knob and turned it.  
>Turned it again.<br>And again.  
>"Crap." he muttered, his face regaining its usually always serious-like expression.<br>"What?" Patrick leaned forward. He pushed Toews aside. "Let me try."  
>Even Patrick Kane tried opening the door. Tried banging on the door. Trying bashing it open.<br>Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  
>"We're locked." Jonathan Toews said, turning around.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**_Sammy Keyes and the Hockey Murderer – Chapter Four_**

"So, what do we do know?" I asked, leaning against a bunch of boxes. "And what's in these boxes, anyway? Bricks?""Pucks."" Said Toews and Kane at the same time. They looked at each other and grinned.

I groaned and looked over to Casey. "Help me."He looked over at the door. "Well, we could wait until someone walks by and then begin banging."

I sighed. "But it could take forever for someone to come…"

"Not really," Jonathan said, "There's a dead person in the bathroom."

It was awkward, dead silence for about 30 seconds straight."I…er…you know what I mean."

Patrick kicked the door. "Damn, damn, damn!" he snapped. "Can't we just get out, arrest the dude, and get back to the game?"

Jonathan punched him. "Shut up. We will, soon."

I rolled my eyes but just at that moment I heard Billy and Marissa in the all started hollering at the same time. "BIILLLYYY. MARISSSAA."

But Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane did these weird banging motions against the door. You know that thing that ripped guys do because know they're ripped? Yeah, that thing. Jonathan went full fledge flying into the door, trying to barrel it down with his side."Stop!" I snapped. "There's only like, 2 feet of space left in this closet."

The door flew open and Billy stood there.

"Lord love a duck!" he cried.

We all stopped panting an gasping for air as we tumbled out of the closet for a moment just to stare at Billy. "Lord love a duck?"

"Yeah! By George, I have found you! But Lord love a duck, WHAT ARE YOU ALL DOING?"

"By George? By George?" we repeated. "Where are you getting these phrases from!"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Now tell me what type of sick game you guys were playing in that closet."

I gave him the dirtiest look ever and said between gritted teeth, "We were playing the game Let's Hide From a Murderer and Wait Half an Hour for Our Moron Friend to Find Us. THAT'S what we were playing."

He cringed. "Sorry?"

Marissa piped up, "But we looked everywhere for that guy and couldn't find him."

I shook my head. "Guys, there's a guy with a gun on the loose. Can we get to business?"

"Yeah, we should get to business." Jonathan Toews said. Typical. Captain behavior.

All us four kids turned and gave Jonathan a look."What?" he demanded. Casey, who obviously was all for sucking up to him. "Jonathan's right, Sammy. We should get to business."

I gave him an incredulous look. "That was MY idea in the first place!"

Toews stood up and started pacing. "Okay, I don't know who you kids are, but you guys know way too much now for me and Patty here to let you frolic away."

"Did you just say Frolik away?" Casey asked. "Like Michael Frolik on your team?"

He grinned. "Yes."

"And did you just call Patrick PATTY?" I cracked up.

"My whole team." He glared. "Sharpy. Kaney. Monty. Leddy. Nettie."

"Who's Nettie?" Billy asked.

"Andrew Brunnette." Casey piped up with.

"Andy!" Jonathan grinned.

Patrick Kane bumped his shoulder. "It's Jonathan's 'thing'. He makes weird nicknames."

I smirked at Jonathan. "Coming from the guy whose name is spelled like toes, I wouldn't have expected."

"ITS NOT SPELLED TOES." He snapped. "The word 'toes' doesn't have a W in it."

"Wait, your name isn't Jonathan Toes?" Marissa asked. Patrick Kane cracked up and Toews glared. "NO." he rolled his eyes a little. "Sharks fans."

"Hey! Don't insult us." I said. Casey, noticing the tension forming between all of us, changed the subject. "SO, guys. Killers. Maniacs. Dead bodies. Closets. Guns. Ring any bells?"

"Yeah, the bells that ring in my heart when I see you, Mr. Toes." Marissa sighed.

Jonathan just stared at her like he got this everyday. I don't know if it was the fan-girls-swooning-over-him that he was used to, or the mistaking of his name being 'Toes', but either way, he seemed pretty nonchalant about Kane grinned. "Yup. Murderers."

"Why are you laughing?" Billy shivered. "You creeper!"

"There's nothing funny about this at all." I agreed.

"Come on, Johnny Toes, let's go find a killer." Patrick yanked Jonathan along.

Suddenly Joe Quenneville and Joe Pavelski came running down the hall toward us.I know he was Joe Quenneville because Patrick ran over to him bellowing, "QUENNEVILLE MY MANNNN!"

Joe Pavelski gave them the dirtiest looks imaginable. Following close behind him was Antti Niemi.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S ANTTI NIEMI!" I heard myself cry out.

Oops. He looked over at me weirdly. I wish I could say he was hot, but he really wasn't. In fact, he kind of looked like a gorilla. I gave Casey a dirty look because I could practically read his mind right now. _My favorite team's players are more attractive than your team_.

_Shut up,_ I snapped at him in my thoughts_. What would you know about attractive, you idiot?_

I looked over. He was still smirking.

"Antti used to play for the Blackhawks, too." I snapped. "Just remember that."

Jonathan and Patrick both glared at Antti.

"What?" Antti Niemi said, hands up. "I helped you win a Stanley Cup!"  
>Jonathan glared some more. "Well, Cory Crawford is doing a PERFECT job taking your place. Just know that."<br>Niemi gawked for a moment, then shook his head. "You asshole."  
>"WHOA WHOA WHOA GUYS. NO FIGHTING. Right now." Joe Pavelski.<p>

"Go away!" I snapped at him. Oops, I just snapped at a player from my favorite team on accident.

_Am I turning into a Blackhawks fan?_

_No. No. No. No._

Joe gave me a weird look. "And you are..again..?"

I rolled my eyes but didn't dignify him with a response. Jonathan said calmly, "Whatever, Niemi."

"Yeah!" Patrick came all Hossa-Hossa in Niemi's face. "Back the EFF off."

DID I JUST USE A BLACKHAWKS TERM IN MY THOUGHTS?

"Hossa".

_Oh jeez. Sammy, stop._

Niemi rolled his eyes. "Can we fix this light issue and get on with the Chicago-ass-whooping already? San Jose is getting bored already."  
>"You mean San Jose <em>and <em>Chicago fans?" Casey added. "And the problem is more than lighting now. A girl was murdered."  
>"What century have <em>you <em>been living in, Gorilla Boy?" Billy asked Niemi.

Niemi stared hard at Billy. "You know, considering you're a Blackhawks fan, I'd think you guys would be a little more grateful to me than this." He muttered under his breath, "Ungrateful fans…"

"I'm not a Blackhawks fan! I'm offended that you'd even suggest that!" Billy scoffed.

Jonathan Toews took a moment out of his serious-stare to ask, "Then why are you wearing a Blackhawks jersey if you're a Sharks fan?"  
>"I'm not a Sharks fan, either!"<br>"Then what ARE you?" Patrick asked, scratching his head. His cute curly hair got all ruffled. _Sammy. Cut it out, Sammy. STOP THIS NONSENSE IN YOUR BRAIN._

"I'm a Kings fan!"  
>I think everyone in the hall at the moment (me, Casey, Toews, Kane, Pavelski, Niemi, even Joe Quenneville and Marissa) yelled, "GET OUT OF HERE!" to Billy.<p>

"Why?" he whimpered. "It's still a hockey game." Then he shot a look at Jonathan. "Mr. Captain Serious, this is all your fauly. Wherever you go, death and destruction follows!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Jonathan rolled his eyes a little.

Joe Quenneville said, "Guys, I'm positive they are cancelling the game. You two need to come back with us in the locker room." He nodded to Kane and Toews.

"Wait," I said, "What about the killer?"  
>"They might evacuate the place. But somehow the doors outside are locked. We can't get out, no one can get in, and we don't have any reception."<br>Under his breathe, Pavelski muttered, "So basically, we're fucked."  
>"LANGUAGE, MR. NHL PLAYER!" Billy hollered. "We have ladies in the room!"<br>Everyone rolled their eyes this time.

I put my hands up. "Okay, so what's the point of 'evacuating' and cancelling If we can't even go anywhere? I think we've spent enough time standing around and—"

Suddenly Joe Quenneville interrupted me. "Excuse me, but who are you again? I faintly remember you guys blithering nonsense to my team earlier, but I don't really see how you serve any purpose to this situation and why you're even part of this conversation…all of you kids. Where are your parents?"

My blood pressure starting climbing. And I'm only 14, guys. I could feel my face burning and my teeth gritting.

"Wait, Joe-sy." Jonathan Toews put a hand on his coach's shoulder. "These kids…well, some of them, are actually pretty useful. And they know a lot about all this, so we should keep them around."

JONATHAN TOEWS JUST CAME TO MY RESCUE. JONATHAN TOEWS JUST TAZERED HIS OWN COACH.

I grabbed Casey's arm to steady myself.

"Don't get _too_ excited." He grumbled.

"Shut up, even _you_ get starstruck around him." I hissed back. "So don't you dare mock the Toews craze."


End file.
